Wings of a Righteous Man
by shydean
Summary: Dean and Cas celebrating their 5 year anniversary. Rated T for language. Fluff. Schmoop.


_A/N: Congrats on surviving 5 years, Cas!_

* * *

"Cas, will you―_damnit_― stay still?" Dean says, just managing to avoid being kicked in the nuts by Cas' thrashing legs. "_Dude, seriously!" _Dean laughs, taking the paintbrush away from Cas' skin. He grabs one of Cas' legs with his free hand, stopping it just in time before it knocks the paint over.

"It tickles." Cas whines petulantly, his hands moving to shield his stomach before realising it's wet with paint.

"You insisted you wanted to do this, so suck it up." Dean chuckles, bopping the end of Cas' nose with vivid blue paint. He moves to straddle Cas' thighs, hoping it would keep the thrashing to a minimum. And because he really loved sitting on Cas' toned thighs.

Dean leans over to the tray that has an array paint pots and a glass of water. He briskly swishes his brush in the water, watching the blue seep into the clear liquid. Cas has a new love for arts and crafts lately, and all but demanded that on this special day, he wanted to use each others body as a canvas. Dean wasn't going to say no to the idea of them both being half naked and painting each other. Having someone else run a paintbrush over your skin is close to orgasmic and makes Dean's hair stand on edge just thinking about it.

And between him and Cas, Dean is a damn good artist.

Cas huffs and hastily rubs the splodge off his nose before it could set. "I'm still allowed to do this to you, right?" Cas says shakily, trying desperately not to kick out again.

Dean dabs his brush in the emerald green, and fills in the spaces of his painting next to Cas' cute bellybutton. "Of course. I said I would, didn't I?" He grins up at him cheekily, "Besides, today I am completely at your service. I can't say no to any of your requests."

"Oh." Cas breathes with wide eyes. He looks down at his stomach and smiles softly, "Is that a peacock?"

Dean suddenly feels very self-conscious, a vulnerability he would only allow Cas to see. "Yeah, uh, it seemed fitting, I guess." He mumbles, rubbing the back of his hand over his heated cheek.

Cas leans up onto his elbows and asks, "How so?"

Deans quiet for a moment as he fills in the last piece of green, and washes his brush out again. "In that barn 5 years ago, you showed me your wings for the first time," He dabs the brush into the black pot, "you looked like a peacock spreading his feathers with pride." He smiles fondly as Cas' cheeks flush in embarrassment. "You were beautiful." He murmurs, remembering the angel back then with all his faith and innocence.

Dean looks up and sees the Cas he is now, laid out on their bed in the bunker in his underwear, carefree and human. He shakes his head softly and says, "You _are_ beautiful."

Cas ducks his head as he's the one to blush this time, his intense blue eyes follow Dean's hand as he writes with the brush in his neatest cursive writing 'angel of the lord' around the peacocks fan of feathers.

He blows gently on the painting causing Cas to yelp and jolt his hips, Dean silently praises his past self for holding down Cas' thighs. Dean chuckles darkly and blows again, this time firmly holding Cas' hips to the bed.

"_Dean_." Cas mews, wriggling his hips out of Dean's grasp.

"Okay, okay. Just keep your legs away from the jewels, man." Dean warns, as he reaches over to deposit the paintbrush into the dark water. He drops it into the jar with a clank and gasps when he feels that Cas has sneaked a thigh between his legs, rubbing slowly back and forth over Dean's growing erection.

"Cas." Dean says through gritted teeth. "If you continue what you're doing― _unh_― we can't finish paint― _oh God_." Dean moans, rocking his own hips in sync with Cas' thigh until Cas abruptly pulls it away and rolls out from underneath him. "You sneaky sonuva― _unf_." Dean huffs as he's pushed to the sheets on his stomach, face first into the pillow.

"My turn." Cas purrs, the mood in the room switching from sweet to sexual in a matter of seconds. Dean resists the urge to rub against the mattress. He silently curses Cas for doing this to him, fully intending to make sure he pays for it later. Repetitively.

Cas' strokes with the brush felt a little too cursive for Dean's liking. "You know the rules; no dicks." He hastily reminds him.

"That's not usually a rule we follow, Dean." Cas quips, chuckling to himself.

Dean's momentarily caught off guard by Cas' use of an innuendo. Unable to give a witty reply he just sighs and says, "You know what I'm talking about, you ass."

Cas gives Dean's thigh an affectionate squeeze in affirmation, which did not help the situation between his legs. Cas lets go and pulls down Deans briefs slightly. He blobs two dashes into the dimples on Dean's butt cheeks, fucking giggling to himself.

He tries to sound stern when he says, "Get back to work." But Cas' soft laughter fills some kind of emptiness inside of him, consuming all the dark, tainted parts of his soul, that only Cas will ever be able to reach.

"Yes, sir." He resumes painting on the canvas that is Dean's back. Dean smiles to himself when he hears Cas' low humming an intro of a Led Zeppelin song while he paints. After twenty minutes of listening to Cas' quiet singing, Dean's ready to fall asleep. The broad strokes of the brush lulling him to sleep. "Okay." Cas sighs. "It's the best I could do." His voice nervous as Dean gets up from underneath Cas to examine his back in the mirror.

"Wings." Dean gasps, soaking up every inch of the thick black feathered wings that graced his back. Dean saw the two black dots in his ass dimples placed under the magnificent plumes. Any other time he would laugh at that, but the awe he feels from seeing the wings encompassing everything he feels.

Dean walks slowly back to the bed where Cas sat, fidgeting with the bed cover. "You gave me wings." Dean whispers, feeling that anything above that would shatter this moment. That the world would crumble around him and he would wake up in Hell again from the worst kind of torture. The torture of being shown a life that he could have with this graceless angel, a life Dean has always thought to be too good to be true. A life he doesn't deserve.

Cas stands, as if sensing Dean's self-loathing. He places his beautiful hands on either side of Dean's face. Both of them drinking in each others features, committing it all to memory. "I gave you wings that day, Dean Winchester." Cas murmurs, bring his lips close to Dean's when he says. "The righteous man saved the broken angel." He touches his lips to Deans briefly, barely a kiss. "More than one person came back from hell that day, you know."

Dean wraps his arms tightly around Cas' waist and shakes his head, unwilling to believe that someone as tainted and flawed as Dean Winchester could ever save an angel.

"Dean, you gave me a purpose again. Taught me that there's more to life than following orders." His smile is fond and adoring. "Free will." Cas runs a hand through Dean's soft, short hair. "Free will to live." He tugs lightly at the strands."Free will to love." Cas breathes raggedly as a shiny tear falls down his cheek, curving and colliding with his plump bottom lip. "And God knows I love you, Dean." Cas' voice is rougher than normal as he holds back another stream of tears.

"Cas." Dean croaks, unable to stop the fat tears from flowing down his own cheeks. He bumps his forehead against Cas' and sighs, "I love you, Cas." His lips shake as he chokes out, "Damnit, I'm so gone on you."

They both look at each other with wet eyes, laughing through their tears at how ridiculously sappy this moment is. Neither of them make a move to stop it though, completely comfortable to cry and just _be_ with each other.

On September 18th 2008, an angel seeking faith saved the righteous man from hell. Little did they know at the time that 5 years later they'd be rolling around in paint doing some very unholy things to each other.

Sam pointedly ignores the amount of paint he finds in the bathroom later that day.


End file.
